For the original version in Serbian, click here.

The center is a crucial element of every composition. The central motif, the central pillar, the center of focus. In everyday language, when we try to explain the concept of a center, we are guided by the logic of position. The center is a location. However, that same center can also be explained through its content. In terms of content, the center differs drastically from what surrounds it. It is not merely in the middle – it is different.

It is precisely this difference of the center – its ontological, not just geometrical nature – that this text attempts to articulate. Through examples from spiritual practice, psychological dynamics, and philosophical thought, we will explore the idea of the center not as a place, but as emptiness – and not just any emptiness, but a positive, functional, and ontological one.

Something about Silent Retreats and Depression – and How They Relate to the Center

On Silent Retreats

The concept of a silent retreat intrigued me from the very beginning. I first encountered it more intimately through the lectures of Alan Watts, where he mentions Hindus who abandoned everyday life, went into the forest and solitude, and practiced active forgetting of language to reconnect with their own (instinctive) nature. He describes how these people killed off their “individuality” and functioned entirely spontaneously, fully surrendering to the inertia of context. Although I cannot fully grasp this idea, I can to some extent identify with that state of consciousness.

Years ago, when I first learned that language is not acquired like other sciences, but rather that we are preprogrammed for linguistic adoption, I had an epiphanic realization: that without language, I would fully immerse into my animal being. My assumption at the time was that, stripped of language, I would be reduced to basic instinctual impulses – hunger, fear, sexuality, primal movement.

Silence Before Meaning

Pre-conceptual thought, or the “house of being,” as Heidegger would call it, is the ontological site that precedes all language. It is a state of consciousness that is unarticulated, unexpressed in words, and thus hard to describe. It’s difficult to speak about this “house of being” because it is, in essence, non-contentual in the classical sense – it contains no images or words, only the potential of form.

Plato, in his theory of ideas, mentions the “Idea of Differentiation.” This idea is the foundational law by which things, in their deepest structure, differ from one another. On the conscious level of the ego, we perceive this difference through comparative analysis of content. But Plato would argue that the “Idea of Differentiation” is not necessarily content-based, but logos-based – that it exists beneath existence, before manifestation. It doesn’t distinguish by what, but by how.

Silence as Method

In my view, silent retreats trigger something I would call artificial depression – and in doing so, they help people. As strange as that may sound, I will try to explain what I mean.

Depression as a Corrective

As I’ve moved through life, I’ve reached one conclusion. Depression – and here I don’t mean clinical depression, but the common, existential kind we all face from time to time – emerges as a consequence of poorly constructed systems of value and meaning. As human beings, we have a natural need to orient our existence through a value system. However, being imperfect, we often make mistakes in that delegation. Depression arises as a corrective mechanism.

In other words, depression is the negation of a value system. When we are depressed, nothing holds meaning or value. We become indifferent to both the external and internal world. I believe this is how the subconscious protects the whole from the errors of consciousness. When consciousness loses orientation, the subconscious revolts – radically:
“If you cannot establish values correctly, I (the subconscious) will return you to ground zero – where nothing has value, and nothing has meaning.”

That moment of total meaninglessness is what I call the starting point. In that emptiness, new meaning can be built. Without it – no true reconstruction is possible.

How Do Silent Retreats Lead to This State?

At the core of the silent retreat is non-linguistic experience. The idea is not to speak with others, not to write anything down, and – as much as possible – not to talk to ourselves either. Since our value delegation is primarily linguistic, the silent retreat introduces a complete counterpoint – a non-linguistic marking of reality.

What happens then?

Individuals begin to feel mood shifts, bodily sensations, spontaneous impulses, emotions without narrative. Neuroses, or repressed complexes, which were previously fenced off by language and thus kept under control, are now unleashed. Language no longer acts as a barrier – and the repressed comes to consciousness. These manifestations are not necessarily pleasant – often disturbing – but they are liberating.

The experience that follows is cathartic. The silent retreat, as a non-linguistic mechanism, provides a moment of release from the rigid constructs language often cements. Complexes can then emerge, no longer as unspoken problems, but as living beings, bodily experiences, images, intuitions.
The individual, in this non-linguistic space, leaves an empty center of focus – like a vessel. That emptiness is not nihil – but a functional ontological emptiness. Something ready to receive what has not yet arrived.

The Configuration of Central Value

A central value must have a negating nature. It must be an antithesis to everything previously held as thesis. Only in this way does the center become dynamic. And movement is life (Leonardo da Vinci).

Movement is exactly what is lacking in depression. Depression is a state of stagnation, of freezing. And a static center – whether it’s an ideology, goal, or dogma – creates a monolithic structure that limits the soul’s needs.

“Art for art’s sake,” Kant would say.

Regime art, in contrast, is impoverished political propaganda. Within it, there is nothing unpredictable, nothing unexpected, nothing magical. And the phenomenon of the soul, if it is to be likened to anything, resembles an artwork more than a political doctrine.

Corrective truth, as Heidegger would call it.

Homo Universalis, said Weininger.

Thesis and antithesis, as method.

If the center contains an intuited thesis – then truth demands an antithesis as correction. Dynamism is the ontology of the center.

Identity Through Negation

A child builds identity through negation:

“I am not my exterior,”
“I am not my parents,”
“I am not the objects I possess,”
“I am not my finger.”

Therefore, I am what remains – and that “something” I don’t know how to name. That is positive emptiness.

An adult, however, affirms their weaknesses – acknowledges errors and attempts to integrate them. They hope correction is possible in a new context. And that too is positive emptiness – a place for a future whole.

Such systems of negation confirm Heidegger, Weininger, Jung, and Buddha. Negation, when directed toward synthesis, can be a system of construction.

The spider’s web illustrates this vividly. A series of threads woven into a system, with emptiness at its center. That emptiness is not absence – but an ontologically active center. The point where the spider sits is not semantic – it means nothing – yet it holds the structure. It is an anchor point.

The Burden of Meaning

“Man must move between meaning and meaninglessness like a snake.” – Vladeta Jerotić

Guided by this quote, we can conclude that even meaning has its antithesis. Those who feel an inner need to bring all aspects of life under the umbrella of “meaning” know how burdensome that need can become. Meaning tends toward unification. It tries to subsume everything into one. This process leads toward ideas, but simultaneously drifts away from the material world, from motion, from everyday reality.

This isn’t necessarily bad – but it mustn’t become the everyday home.

Conclusion: The Center as Sacred Unknowing

The central element is not only positional but also semantic.

The irony is that this semantics is not something concrete – but a negation of semantics itself.

Sacred unknowing, the theologians would say.

Anti-knowledge, said Philemon.

The center as functional emptiness – the beginning of all meaning.

Not a place of dogma, but of openness.

Not meaning – but space for meaning.

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On the ontology of the existing:

Metaphysical – Physical – Metaphysical

This is the template of Existence.

The metaphysical is both the cause and the effect. The physical is the bridge between two metaphysical realms. It is an instrument for crossing over.

We can think about these instances of Cause and Effect in the context of two Forces. One that pushes us and the other that pulls us. One that deconstructs and fragments, and the other that distills and reconfigures (conceptualizes).

In a simplified sense, the pushing force can be thought of as negative (in terms of architecture, moving away from external negative influences), while the pulling force is positive (in terms of architecture, the values we aspire to).

Architecture as a Metaphysical Idea

From caves to skyscrapers, from agricultural fields to landscape design, architectural practice has undergone significant transformations. What initially served to protect us from external influences – the Cave – has now become an exponent of our public (or private) Persona – the House – Apartment.

Although the prevailing idea is that architecture is a practice primarily reserved for the “privileged” – historically institutions, churches, or the ruling class – because they were the only ones who could afford it, the truth is that, to a greater or lesser extent, we are all architects. Each of us has an inherent need for aesthetic space. The same can be said of philosophy. While we might argue that not everyone is a chemist, biologist, or physicist, we are all, in some way, philosophers.

Each of us seeks something more from a space than merely pragmatic or utilitarian functions. We look for stimulation, inspiration, a sense of intimacy, a sense of identity, or protection from the “negative” influences of the chaotic outside world. Space tends to be purposeful. However, how does this purposefulness shift in meaning when we move beyond its most banal (initial) functions and approach transcendental interpretations – or at least comparative inquiries.

Architecture and Linguistics

Just like the genesis and evolution of language, architecture has followed a similar path. Language moved from individual terms (Structuralism – de Saussure), through syntax (generative-transformational linguistics – Chomsky), to discourse. From the smallest meaningful unit to the largest interconnected system. Architecture evolves the same way. From simple huts, through ornamental cathedrals – seen as a series of micro-ornaments – to buildings as macro-ornaments. This type of progression appears across many scientific disciplines. It also exists within artistic movements. Architecture simply follows the natural spirit of development.

Claude Lévi-Strauss explained the development of language as follows:

First, we linguistically label what is dangerous to us. After that, what is useful to us, and finally, what has no significance to us.

A similar development can be observed in architecture. In the beginning, we built simple shelters – as basic protection from the elements. Then we introduced decorative elements into these shelters. Through aesthetic symbols, we began to express our ideals, desires, and visions. Eventually, architectural space became an arena for creative play and conceptual exploration. Space ceased to be purely functional. It became a medium of expression. Through its form, we began to think about the world, ourselves, and our place in the universe.

Architecture and the Psyche

Compartmentalization is a term that originally emerged from architectural practice. Separated parts of a larger system that can function autonomously without mutual influences. If one part collapses, the other remains intact. This is a defense mechanism that, in its ontological definition, is conservative, not progressive. Although the term is architectural, it found greater application in psychological practice, particularly Freudian. What problems does this approach create?

When parts become separated from the whole, they begin to oppose each other as a result of the desire for sovereignty. This is most visible in education. In many schools, especially universities, we can observe how subjects stand almost opposed to each other. Professors will defend their department as the most important to the point of denying others. This creates an inner conflict that does not lead to a common goal. Recognizing natural connections between subjects is essential for the growth of knowledge. But compartmentalization goes against this, and therefore becomes a major obstacle.

A similar problem has occurred in architecture. By the definition of aesthetic epochs, we have reached the stage of the “macro-ornament” – where the entire object is one ornament, one message, one idea. However, its parts no longer relate through a deeper grammar. They are only stylistically connected into a visual shell. That shell is merely form, not meaning. Aesthetics have become ethics. Form has replaced content.

In the majority of cases, juxtaposition has remained the only rhetorical figure through which architecture is explained.

Room Analysis and Their Metaphysical Causes

Every room, every space we occupy, carries a certain metaphysical meaning far beyond its physical functions. It’s no wonder that in the psychoanalysis of dreams, rooms-spaces are taken as representatives of parts of the psyche. Rooms are reflections of internal states and symbolic messages that people unconsciously or consciously embed into the space. They function as physical forms of our thoughts, needs, and emotions, and their configurations can have deep consequences on our psychological state and inner world.

For example, the living room may symbolize social interaction, gathering, and sharing experiences. But it is also a place that projects our image to the outside world – how we want others to see us. In that sense, the living room is the space through which our public Persona is expressed, while the bedroom, in contrast, represents the inner self, a place of intimacy, regeneration, and introspection. Symbolically, the bedroom can be associated with retreating into the unconscious, similar to returning to the state of sleep and inner dialogue.

The kitchen, as the center of daily activities, becomes a space of transformation – a place where raw materials become something new, where physical food symbolizes the creative process. The kitchen is a metaphorical space of alchemy, the transformation of ideas into action. Similarly, hallways and passages can be seen as transitional phases of life, connecting different aspects of our being and moving from one state of consciousness to another. Hallways are bridges.

In conclusion:

Architecture is a metaphysical mirror. Just as rooms reflect our inner worlds, so too is every architectural object a result of the evolution of society, culture, and the individual. Space becomes not just a physical shelter but a medium for expressing (exploring) our philosophy of life, our relationship to the world, and ourselves. In this synthesis of the material and immaterial lies the true power of architecture – not only to shape our world but to guide us through it, connecting us to the deeper layers of existence.

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Further analysis, however quirky, has helped me understand (personal) relationship with work in a broader sense. I hope that the following interpretation may also assist others in finding a different perspective toward their work, one that is not solely defined by basic ideas.

This interpretation mainly refers to the movie Skyfall, though it is likely applicable to all Bond films.

Archetypal Patterns

Bond as a Man of Action – The Hero Archetype

Bond represents the archetype of the Hero, always ready to face dangers and moral dilemmas. His story in Skyfall portrays a fall, redemption, and return, passing through physical and inner conflicts, which makes him a complex hero. Action and instinct drive him through his missions, but this film adds depth to his character, making him a hero who faces his own limitations.

M – The Wise Old Woman – The Great Mother Archetype

M symbolizes the Wise Old Woman and the Great Mother, providing Bond with guidance and protection. As an authority figure and moral compass, she is someone Bond respects. Her death in the film has a strong emotional impact on Bond, as he loses a key maternal figure, forcing him to take on greater responsibility.

Death and Rebirth – The Transformation Archetype

In Skyfall, Bond undergoes the archetype of Transformation – his “death” at the beginning and eventual return symbolize a metaphorical rebirth. This cycle leads him through physical and emotional renewal, reexamining his identity and role, which is a crucial phase on the hero’s journey.

Reaching His Goals Mostly Through Women – The Anima Archetype

Bond’s relationship with women reflects his Anima, the feminine aspect of his soul. Women like Séverine often serve as catalysts for his actions, but they are also key to balancing his emotions and rational world. They open space for his introspective side, making them vital to his inner development.

The Shadow Archetype

Silva, the main antagonist represents Bond’s Shadow. He is a dark version of Bond, someone who has gone through a similar process but has chosen a different path. Silva personifies Bond’s inner fears – what he could become if he lost faith in MI6 and its authorities. As Bond’s shadow, Silva highlights the dangers of individualism without moral boundaries – the Lucifer (fallen angel) symbol.

The Father Archetype

MI6 and its institutional framework act as the father archetype, providing Bond with direction and tasks, offering him structure within which he operates. While MI6’s authority may sometimes appear cold and distant, it symbolizes a paternal figure guiding Bond through his mission, even when their relationship is strained.

Analysis of James Bond and What We Can Learn from His Relationship to Work

What caught my attention about James Bond (aside from all the well-known moments) is his relationship to his work. More precisely, the nature of his job, which differs from that of most people. The essence of his work is not about acquiring material wealth, which we can say is the nature of almost all jobs. For James Bond, his home or wealth does not matter. As a member of the secret service and a top operative, everything is provided for him. What retains importance is the Suit of Armor (his suit and watch) and his cars. Both can be seen as serving the function of defining his Persona. The suit is an exponent of a uniform (a certain mode of functioning), his watch represents precision, while the car signifies thought – its speed and elegance. These gadgets have their small additions and applications, but the core idea is deepening his purposefulness.

Bond’s Nature in Relation to Himself – The Negation of Historicity

Bond lacks historicity. He is not nostalgic in any way. Historicity, in his case, would be a crutch that would cause him to stumble. His conditional movement is directed straight toward the future. More precisely, he receives direction from MI6, the exponent of the Good (metaphysical, collectively supraconscious). This is a crucial point; Bond’s directions do not come from his personal consciousness (personal definitions of good), but from something greater, something universal. This idea is made explicit in Skyfall when Silva offers him the opportunity to “choose their own missions,” which Bond naturally declines. Although MI6 is depicted in the film as morally ambivalent (or even morally displaced), from an ordinary observer’s perspective, Bond still recognizes it as a higher moral authority.

This Good comes with collateral damage and has no sympathy for individual sacrifice, as long as the mission is accomplished – a reference to God (the metaphysical), who executes His Plan regardless of individual suffering. Bond is often in conflict with MI6 (the metaphysical) for this very reason: its lack of empathy toward individual suffering. His concern for the individual is what makes him human.

This type of conflict is something we all experience to such an extent that we often doubt the “authority” and its goals – just as we might doubt God’s plan. Skepticism is a healthy stance, and it must exist. However, faith must also exist, a faith that follows this “Greater Good,” even if we do not fully understand it.

Note: Suspension of disbelief – we interpret MI6 as it is portrayed in the film, as an objectively “greater good,” and not as a human construct full of anomalies and personal pretensions, as it probably is in reality.

On the Conditionals of This Kind of Work Relationship

Ancient Greek philosophers argued that one must rise above existential problems to engage in philosophy (higher matters). One must finish with the “lower” to deal with the “higher.”

That is exactly what James Bond does. He has finished with material accumulation and serves exclusively the “greater good.” This way of functioning puts him in an instrumental position, opposite to the autistic urges for repetition, ergo, security. His life is on the line at every moment, and each day could be his last. At the core of his actions is almost absolute Action, without contemplation or reflection on past experiences. There is no nostalgia, no desire for the old days or past events. Each day is a New Sun (Heraclitus), taken to the limit of the absolute. Thought (contemplation or conclusions) is reduced to almost instinctual (intuitive) action. He doesn’t need to reflect and conclude, he knows. Reflection is part of analysis (the material), intuitive guidance is part of instinct (the metaphysical, or already understood – conceptualized – part of a larger pattern that is not deduced but is self-evident). Intellectual muscle memory. Bond is not historical, even in thought. His identity does not derive from a historical mosaic of experiences but from active aspects that lead to his Goal, and that goal is established by an “other” – the Collective Supraconscious – the Good.

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Symbolism as a Universal Structure

Symbolism is not just an artistic movement or personal preference. It is not merely an aesthetic phenomenon of a particular era. Symbolism is a universal psychological structure that shapes human consciousness. No matter how much we lean toward the analytical or rational, the fundamental way we understand reality is symbolic.

The symbol, as the core expression of human existence, is never simple or singular. Even when our perception of reality is fragmented into individual parts – analytical labels, specific details – the symbol itself is not lost. It remains intact, threading through all these fragments with its deeper, unifying essence. Our use of language to mark the world is just one expression, one aspect of the symbol. It serves to describe what we might call symbol-thought – a fundamental idea that shapes our understanding of reality.

The symbolic nature of language manifests itself in everyday experiences. When someone watches a film but fails to grasp its essence, they have not succeeded in deciphering the symbol embedded in the film. The symbolism of the film is often broken down into symbols within symbols, or what we can call symbolic morphemes, components that form the totality of the symbolic discourse. Understanding the entirety of symbolism is a process, an active act of interpretation.

Interpretation as a Psychological Process

Interpreting symbols is not merely a mental activity or a voluntary task of consciousness. It is a fundamental function of existence. The interpretation of reality, through the symbols that represent it, is one of the core psychological processes. It does not require conscious effort but is a continuous, natural, and biologically ingrained process. We constantly interpret the world through symbols, without pause. This is our primary means of understanding existence. As a result of this uninterrupted process of interpretation, we define what we call Existence.

The very act of symbolic interpretation is not a choice, it is an inevitable part of human consciousness. Everything we perceive, we experience as a symbolic representation of reality, and through these representations, we shape, redefine, and affirm our understanding of the world.

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On Love

For the last 10,000 years, up until around the late 1800s, an individual’s environment was composed of “things” that were generated according to the following principle: an individual would leave their “house,” find a stone or a piece of wood that could be of use, bring it home, and from it create a chair, a tool, a shelf, etc. In other words, the initially found object was not discovered in its completed form but only as potential. The world was unfinished for a long time, and the completion of our immediate surroundings required our constant participation and activity. This is the principle of Refinement.

As history shows, this principle of relating to the other went so far that even people, at the beginning, connected in unfinished (unknown) qualities since marriages were largely predetermined. The lack of knowledge provided only the first contextual potential upon which love relationships were built. The possibility of this future love was given by that general perspective of developmental potential (anti-entropy).

Passive Consumers Instead of Active Participants

Today, things are different. Our immediate environment comes to us in its most “perfect” (intentional pleonasm) form, and through further handling (consumption), it only deteriorates. From houses and chairs to friendships, and even relationships with lovers, our first contact is an ecstatic obsessive state of intoxication with the perfection and “completeness” of the other. More precisely, we feel that the “otherness” is necessary to complete our emptiness, whereas before we saw the need for our actualization in the completion of the other. Here we recognize an inversion of our inner attitude toward the external world.

The Ideal Image

Problem plus Solution. This is the foundation of the ideal image. A symbolic process.

The ideal as a principle is of a driving nature. It translates Chaos into Order, and that is its basic algorithm. In line with the human romantic spirit, the history of civilization depicts the Ideal as a static, finished, harmonious image that requires no further movement. In such an illustration, we notice that it lacks the fundamental driving force. Given the level of completion, the “Ideal” image is not ideal but merely (illusorily) finished. However, since this “static image” has stood as the definition of the ideal for many years, it has left consequences on our definitions of reality. The ideal is one side of the compass needle from which our ethical and aesthetic laws are constituted. When that needle does not move and is portrayed as a static moment, it leads to problems and a loss of direction.

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Translating Potency

Planning often brings anxiety, and that is not unknown. Fears are part of daily life and can be rooted in something we may not always clearly define, but which exists as a constant. This is not a weakness but an opportunity to understand how to deal with something that follows us through time. In this context, we can talk about the concept of potency – something that exists as a possibility but has yet to become reality.

From a first-person perspective, there is no distinction between what is written and what is merely a thought process. However, from the position of the third person (an outside observer), the difference is essential. It represents the line between the potential – between Pleroma and Abraxas – and Helios – the visible (existing). The question is how to make that transition – how to move from potency to realization.

One of the solutions could be to find four points within the circle – four choices within freedom. Squaring the circle, as a mental process, can offer a way out of the chaos of possibilities. The square is structure, rules within freedom.

The four objective choices, aligned diagonally across the central point, show the way to establish balance.

In the middle, the central point has a gravitational nature and a directional path. The path is a symbol of the goal, and the goal is the translation of potency into actualization. But here, it’s important to understand that this doesn’t always happen under the influence of Helios, but sometimes we act under the force of Abraxas (chaotic and amoral), especially when the central point is unknown or undefined.

Helios becomes the key element that connects opposing sets. Through this lens, knowledge (or truthful, holistic understanding) becomes the central point that unites opposites. This dialogue between opposing elements enables the translation of possibility into action and the creation of order out of chaos – the balance of oppositions.

Doubling the Pairs

The number Two has implications of the feminine principle. The entire problem of the square, following Pythagorean mathematics (The Perennial Philosophy – Aldous Huxley), algebraically stands in the symbol of woman, in the number 2.

Four points make a square. A square implies two vertical and two horizontal lines. In the case of a square with a 16:9 ratio, the horizontal lines are closer to the center (the central point) than the vertical ones. The Earth symbol, in relation to the Sky symbol, is closer to Helios in this case. Considering that the lines are representatives of content, we will assume that this is the place where final choices can be made, which are necessary for secure and lasting existence. Choices that do not arise as a result of the “pushing force of the Cosmos” but as entities drawn by the gravitational force of the future.

On Differences:

Horizontal is the field, vertical are the constituents, the participants.

Horizontal is the context, vertical is individuality.

In the horizontal dimension is the community of everything, while in the vertical is only the individual.

The control of choices is divine power. It is the shaping of reality according to inner desire. It is the form-giving language.”

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Modular houses have increasingly found their place in the real estate market recently. This was expected, given their simplicity and affordability.

Of course, modular houses can offer a range of advantages, but they also come with their drawbacks. From an architectural perspective – not as mere construction, but from the viewpoint of aestheticians – we present five major problems that are predominant with such buildings: four aesthetic problems and one logistical misconception.

Aesthetic Problem No. 1 – Design Limitations and Their Implications

Modular houses often have design limitations. This arises, among other things, as a result of a market previously dominated (until recently) exclusively by the construction industry, which is industrialized rather than creative.

Although almost every company producing modular buildings can execute the designs of any other (we’re talking about small-scale, relatively simple projects), they are generally limited to a range of similar designs that all resemble “simplified mid-20th century American suburban houses.”

This might not seem like a problem, but considering today’s radically different definitions of what a house represents, this issue raises further questions.

A house has become an extension of our personality, or more precisely, our public Persona. This is the modern definition. Previously, such a definition was reserved for the highest echelons of society. Today, when nearly everyone can read Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations and find themselves identifying with Caesar’s problems, we can observe that everyday awareness (life) has elevated beyond mere profane existence. On one hand, this shows how far we’ve advanced as a civilization; however, with this progress comes an increase in expectations – not only from the world but also from ourselves.

A house is no longer just a shelter or a practical space, but a symbolic exponent of our aesthetic judgments and ethical values.

For aesthetic or ethical views to be visible, we need more than a historically simplified stylization of the status quo. A personalized language is required – one that reflects the individual’s views and perception of the world, particularly of what is considered “beautiful” and “good.”

These judgments cannot emerge from prefabricated, generic forms that dominate the modular housing market, as individuality is lost, and the value of unique (individual) elements disappears.

Aesthetic Problem No. 2 – Lack of Connection to the Environment

Modular houses often suffer from a key aesthetic issue – a lack of integration with the natural environment and local culture. Although their universality and flexibility are marketed as advantages, this approach leads to architecture that often feels alien in its surroundings. Rather than adapting to the specifics of the terrain and social context, modular houses typically follow pre-defined models, resulting in a discordant presence in the environment.

Modern architecture demands interaction with nature, not only for aesthetics but also for ecological sustainability and connection to the surroundings. In modular houses, however, this often falls short. The design, meant to be universal, rarely considers the specific features of the landscape, such as topography, vegetation, or climate. The result is a uniform structure that appears unnatural in rural settings, while in urban areas, it may seem generic and soulless. This architectural disconnect often gives the impression that a modular house was “placed” into a space rather than growing organically from it as a natural extension of the landscape.

Instead of expressing local identity through design that reflects specific cultural and historical references, modular houses often appear as “products,” devoid of uniqueness and local symbolism. This sense of architectural “detachment” not only contributes to the aesthetic issue but also reduces the sense of belonging and connection to the surroundings.

Aesthetic Problem No. 3 – Material Quality

The quality of materials used in modular houses can vary, and they are often inferior to those used in traditional construction. This can lead to issues with durability and house maintenance, among others.

Modern solutions are also sustainable solutions – eco-friendly and sensor-friendly. It’s no surprise that the so-called Japandi style has found its place in the normative standards of interior architecture. The combination of natural and natural.

What modern materials lack is that primal, paternal pleasure of the tactile sensations of wood and stone, which connect us to our collective memory of the primal home. This memory is an ontological part of home architecture.

Despite the first impression of familiar house forms, modern modular homes imply a “mass” product. Cheap plastic, excessive metal, and concrete blocks strongly suggest a “product,” impoverished of its authenticity and original spirit, which should not seek a place in the definition of home. This impoverishment is not a consequence of the number of “mass-produced” houses but lies in the architectural deficiencies themselves. The architecture is cheap, not the house itself. The house is no longer “the thing” but has become “the stuff.”

Aesthetic Problem No. 4 – Standardization of Proportions and Disruption of the Human Experience

One of the less obvious but very significant aesthetic issues with modular houses is their tendency toward standardization of proportions and dimensions, which often disrupts the human experience of space. By its nature, modular design tends toward uniformity and efficiency, but this rationalization of space often comes at the expense of the subtle yet important dimension of architecture – its emotional and perceptual experience.

Traditional architecture, over centuries, has developed an understanding of how proportions and spatial dimensions affect our physical and psychological state. Architectural elements such as ceiling height, hallway width, and window size are not arbitrary – they are carefully designed to create a certain feeling, whether it be grandeur, comfort, intimacy, or openness. Modular houses, however, due to their production-oriented nature, often overlook this complexity in favor of rationalized standards that dictate universal dimensions and relationships within the space.

In addition to physical proportions, there is also the problem of uniform rhythm in the arrangement of interior and exterior elements – ornaments, or more precisely, their lack or complete absence. Due to their prefab nature, modular houses often have a predictable and mechanical rhythm in the structure of facades, windows, and other elements. This repetitiveness of monolithic constituents, although economically justified, creates monotony that can lead to psychological fatigue and a loss of interest in the space. In architecture, rhythm and variation of elements are key to creating a dynamic space, allowing users to connect with their environment on an intuitive level. Modular design, however, often leans toward uniformity, which can result in a mechanical space devoid of life and soul.

Logistical Misconception

Although modular houses are often advertised as a cheaper alternative to traditional houses, costs can be high, especially when considering the expense of delivering the modules to the location. The costs are even higher if shipping from another country is involved.

Many people mistakenly assume that local assembly companies only build houses from their portfolio. Modular houses are a construction system. This construction system is known to all building companies and consists of prefabricated parts related to the structure and infill, the so-called sandwich walls. If a local construction company can build one, they can build almost any house that falls under the same construction principle and similar scale.

What people often don’t know is that they can submit their own house plan and request something entirely different from what’s offered.

This flexibility allows for the creation of a house that truly reflects the owner’s taste and identity, avoiding generic and standardized designs that often fail to express individuality. In this way, modular construction ceases to be limited to company offerings and becomes a tool for customizing a house to the specific user experience.

Modularity and Authenticity: Between the Universal and the Personal

Modular houses confront us with the question of what it means to have a home in an era of quick solutions and mass production. While they offer efficiency and affordability, they remind us of the fundamental tension between the universal and the specific, between the general and the personal. Through them, we challenge ourselves: how do we create a space that is not just a physical structure but a bearer of our inner worlds, our values, and our ideals? A home, as more than just a shelter, becomes an extension of our identity, a space where our inner and outer realities meet. Modular houses encourage us to recognize that the real challenge is not in building walls but in creating a space that reflects our deep, authentic connection with the world and with ourselves.

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Caesar, as the main protagonist, architect, and artist, has the power to freeze time (the moment), which explicitly points to well-known definitions of art, such as ‘Eternity captured in a moment.’ That moment can last longer or shorter. It can be a picture, a film, a book, or something else. To show the extremity of this definition, in the movie, time is frozen, and it absolutely stops, so that we may become aware of the eternity behind the movement.

However, as the film develops, we notice a contradiction. Caesar’s City of the Future is a city of Kinetic Architecture, a City of Movement. This negates the first definition of art that was previously established—static Normative Value.

This shift from static and timeless to dynamic and temporal can also be found in the level of philosophical discourse in Foucault’s Theory of Science, as well as in many others, especially in the 20th and 21st centuries. The new paradigm nullifies the previous one, just as the next one will nullify the current one. Value is no longer ontologically permanent but exists only within a certain time (for a certain time). After that time, it loses value and becomes non-value.

Such reflections align with ‘process states’ and modern perceptions of the world and axiology.

Dave Chappelle gave a speech that encapsulates the modern perspective on values in a few words:

‘People are trying to replace the ideas of good and bad with better or worse, and that is incorrect. Good and Bad is the compass, it helps you find the way, and the person that only does what’s better or worse is the easiest type of person to control. They are a mouse in the maze that just finds the cheese.’

In the continuation, you will find an architectural-drawing heuristic analysis of this ‘problem,’ with the hope that its (de)construction will open new fields of understanding of static and dynamic values.”

1. Phenomenon – in itself – Constituent

2. Story – as a series of Phenomena

To reduce both subjects of observation (both the Phenomenon and the Story) to their minimal extremes, we will observe them as two-dimensional images.

1. Phenomenon

“Now is a boundary—it is before and after. And time is that which, according to a certain order, exists both before and after. Now is a boundary, not a part of time, for a part measures a whole, and time is not composed of present moments. For now is not a part of time, just as a point is not a part of a line (the point, rather, is the boundary of the line), and now is not a part of time but a boundary. Therefore, no present moment can be before or after itself; nor can there be a now that extends, because then part of that present moment would be in the past, and part in the future.” – Aristotle, Physics, Book IV, 10 (218a, 10-23)

The phenomenon in itself pertains to particularity (singularity). A single object, outside the context of the Many. The phenomenon, in itself, is static in nature. Its incompleteness (openness) on both sides—the side of the beginning and the side of the end—gives the impression of dynamism. In truth, the beginning and the end do not exist; there is only the present state.

We explain this present state through the Point. The Point is what constitutes its existing ontology. The Point arises as a consequence of contextual content, and its future also dissolves into contextual content. The Point has no characteristics except position, and it is not Content, although it is composed of it and dissolves into it. The Point is purely spatial.

The Point arises as a consequence of the End of the preceding and continues into the Beginning (undefined) of the next. Thus, geographically, it is located between the End and the Beginning, not the Beginning and the End.

With the addition of time, the Point (Phenomenon) gains historicity—the Origin of becoming—Past, and it gains a Future—the direction of participation. However, when this point is stretched through time, it is no longer a spatial ontology but a temporal one; ergo, it is no longer merely a point, as its extension stretches into both Future and Past.

With this addition of the temporal category, the Point transforms into a Story.

2. Story

Beginning – Middle – End

A Story consists of 3 points because only in this way can its objective movement be determined.

Unlike the Point, a Story is a closed (Completed) system. A clear Beginning, Development, and End.

The foundational Point of a story is not the initial or the final but the Developmental. The Developmental Point constitutes the story and its complexity, ergo it cannot even be called a Point, but rather Content.

As a consequence of the complication of the story’s developmental part, a New Point is synthesized—the Novum Point. This Point is Content-based in its function but also geographical (like the other non-content-based points) in its fundamental definition.

Commentary:

What makes a Story “more interesting” than a Point is its dynamic (mutable) nature. Immutability in the modern era loses its value. Perhaps because the idea of basic ontological (immutable) values is fading, or it is less noticeable due to its static configuration. Transitory (temporal) values are becoming the new ontology.

Constituents set in this way bring us back to the question of the Individuation of Archetypes. Are Archetypes Completed, in Process, or both simultaneously, with their manifestation depending solely on the position of perspective?

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It’s easy to fall into the trap and assume that the opposite of freedom is an empty lack of freedom or imprisonment.

“The soul is free when it is educated.” – M. Eckhart, Goethe

On the opposite side of freedom lies a choice. The Choice is what ends freedom and reduces it to actualization. Freedom is potential (numerous) choices, and Destiny (non-freedom) is one choice.

We make this choice, or the external makes the choice for us. The illusion is of the individual assuming otherwise.

The drawing of the simplest mandala is the most illustrative example of the relationship between freedom and Destiny, potential and actualisation.

Mandala 1

A circle describing a point. The circle is an infinite series of points (choices), or an exponent of freedom, while the point in the middle represents the “singularity” of Destiny, or as Jung says, the Self.

Ref: Jung’s autobiographical sketches of daily Mandalas

Mandala 2

A circle cut in half (into two semicircles). In this mandala, the separation of the whole by the Center line is shown. Two sets, thesis and antithesis. This mandala in its simplest interpretation represents three points, connected by a straight line (alignment of three points). Thesis, Antithesis, and the Relation between. The point of relation (Center) is an exponent of the Self and the basic reference point based on which thesis and antithesis are aligned (recognized). This Mandala is the first step in the coordinate determination of the Self and the first step towards Destiny Choice.

Mandala 3

A circle describing a point, and connected by a spiral. We all want to reach the Center, and we reach it through “freedoms”. Freedoms decrease, or “purify”, in cycles, and gravitate towards the Center. The Center is the Goal and the final step.

Freedoms push, the Center pulls. Ref: Terence McKenna and the theory of time (novum).

Maturity of consciousness is needed for Destiny. Infantile awareness, as the predominant collective neurosis, complicates this form of awareness. In a Biblical sense, the Devil is dressed in “new” garments and presents himself as the most beautiful angel, freedom.

Comment:

Free will and multiverse movies

We can often interpret movies as compensatory manifestations of our collective (or personal) shortcomings. The era of superhero movies portrays a picture of individual impotence, which is somewhat understandable due to the time we live in. However, multiverse movies provide a more interesting compensation. Compensation for the lack of free will. By depicting endless arrays of potential scenarios and possible realities, they relativize the importance of singularity behind phenomena but provide the comfort of indefiniteness (freedom).

Individual state – How Human is greater than the Cosmos

The collective existence of indefiniteness is permissible to the Cosmos, which measures its story in billions of years, and its development has practically just begun, however, this is not a good position for the individual.

Our insignificance in years, on the other hand, offers us a solution.

Every story consists of three constituents: Beginning, Middle, and End. These constituents make up the story of the Cosmos as much as they make up the story of a single Human. Although our experience of the Cosmos is of something almost Infinite, although we feel practically frightened by this magnitude, there exists in us another feeling of greatness standing as opposition to this fear. That greatness is the greatness of hypothetical inner infinity, which is as great as the external infinity, only its miniature representation.

Both infinities stand in a parallel, balanced relationship. However, while the external Infinity will potentially need hundreds of billions of years to reach the “Middle” of its Story, inner Infinity has the advantage of accelerated development.

Wrong unit of measurement (reference)

“So the World works, so will I,” is the basic fallacy. The “World” has time. The World is part of the Cosmic narrative.

The entirety of our story (beginning – middle – end) is written and played in about 100 years. All chapters, all transformations, all conceptualizations, all actualizations, all archetypal representations.

The differences between the beginning and the middle, as well as the middle and the end, are evident. These are differences between the young and the mature, the mature and the wise. It is also evident that the world is still in the infancy of its teenage years. This child is not an ethical-aesthetic norm, but merely a reference to the stage of development. A reference to the collective antithesis, which is at the beginning of development and will need much more time to mature.

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1. Theory

Chapter 1.1: Introduction to Architecture as Language

The Role of Architecture in Shaping Our Aesthetic Judgment

Architecture, like language, has a powerful ability to communicate without the use of words, or rather, through the use of its own vocabulary. Through nuances, rhythms, and contrasts, architecture establishes a dialogue among elements that can be interpreted like a story.

Each spatial element has its own “voice,” whether it’s a pillar supporting a wall, a window allowing light, or doors inviting entry. In this dialogue, architecture shapes our perception of the environment, creating an ambience that can be inspiring, mystical, or even enigmatic.

Through form, context, and function, architecture speaks the language of symbols. Each element carries deep semantics, from traditional symbols to specific references. Through this symbolism, architecture becomes more than a physical phenomenon—it becomes a narrative connected to collective experience.

The fundamental role of architecture in shaping the environment makes it a key language (tool), through which we can transcend the mundanity of everyday life and establish a relationship with something greater. “Man is a city in miniature” B.B. These terms speak with a silent language, yet a powerful image, of architecture as an intellectual construct with allegorical values and moral messages.

Considering its mode of participation, architecture constructs internal aesthetic norms within us—introtectures. Internal laws by which we determine relationships of completion-incompletion, balance-load, open-closed, etc. These aesthetic laws extend deep into our subconscious, hence the constant presence of houses, squares, and magnificent buildings in our dreams. In dream analyses, Jung often compares the house to the psyche, showing the importance of architecture through which the subconscious communicates or self-explains. Ultimately (even through dreams), architecture is an objective reference to human participation in the world of nature (both conscious and subconscious), making it one of the fundamental human extensions in the history of civilization.

Chapter 1.2: Symbolism of Oppositions

In architecture, the symbolism of opposition represents a language that transcends the physical characteristics of space and ventures into the realm of abstract meaning. Oppositions, such as open-closed, fluid-static, or light-dark, become key elements of architectural grammar. This (tripartite) structure of dual terms (thesis – relation – antithesis) portrays the phenomenon in its entirety.

The presence of oppositions in architectural language is not merely a matter of grammatical logic but also of profound semantic richness. For instance, the contrast between broken lines and straight ones can symbolize the relationship between chaos and order. These oppositions communicate with the viewer on an intellectual level by assigning concrete meanings to concrete forms, thus creating new terms recognized later as sentences or linear narratives.

The symbolism of opposition is not strictly confined to visual antonyms. These contrasting sets can be viewed as conceptual ideas such as balance, opposition, and diversity. Through understanding this symbolism, architects become storytellers who surpass material reality and build bridges to universal principles that shape our understanding of aesthetics and ethics.

Chapter 1.3: Architecture and Psychology

The effect of space on the human psychological state is de facto evident. Depending on specific needs, space can stimulate productivity, relaxation, interaction, etc. For example, a space with plenty of natural light and open vistas often evokes a sense of expansiveness and freedom, while well-designed enclosed spaces can provide a feeling of security and intimacy. Both fulfil the task of a “study”, but depending on the preferences and character of the user, the choice is radically different.

The psychology of space deals with the concepts of privacy and social interaction. Like private and public personas, the balance between openness and closedness is a significant factor in creating thoughtful environments. The balance between opposing sides of the same set is a relationship that the architect strives for. Architecture becomes a formative medium that responds to our mental needs, inviting us to connect with space on a level that transcends physical dimensions and seeks overlaps with metaphysical laws.

Architecture and the psychology of space are closely intertwined, making our homes, workplaces, and public spaces reflect our emotional contents, our historicity, our tendencies, human creativity, and ultimately divine principles. As Jung also says, “Consciousness is historical.” Through a versatile approach that takes into account psychological aspects, architects become concept-builders of spaces that not only meet functional requirements but also establish reference frameworks through which the psyche moves and individualizes daily.

Chapter 1.4: Archetypes in Architectural Expression

Archetypes, universal symbols and forms present in the collective unconscious, are the foundation of architectural grammar. By using archetypal images, architects can establish deep connections between space and humans, creating architectural expressions that resonate on an inherently spiritual level.

One frequent archetypal image is the “oasis,” which represents a place of safety and renewal. This archetypal image can be recognized in images of relaxation spaces, such as inner courtyards or green roofs. The use of the archetype of “journey,” or man as homo viator (man as a traveler), can be reflected in spatial arrangements that lead users through a dynamic series of rooms, creating an experience of traveling within the space itself or a journey through oneself. Individual architectural elements carry specific archetypal narratives: Staircases as symbols of individuation (especially spiral ones) | Chimneys as symbols of alchemical transformation (Santa Claus comes down the chimney) | Doors and windows as the boundary between the outside and inside, and their transit points | Basements as exponents of the subconscious | Rooms as exponents of the Psyche | Closets as symbols of intimacy, etc.

Archetypal signs, like the circle representing wholeness or the square referring to stability, provide architects with powerful tools for communicating specific principles. For example, a circular form can dominate the design of an art center, reminding visitors of the cyclical and continuous flow of creativity and inspiration. On the other hand, square shapes, with clear sides, can be emphasized in the construction of institutions that wish to convey a sense of stability and order, such as a bank or a legal institution.

The use of archetypes, or better yet, the interpretation of archetypal representations in architectural expression, opens doors for deeper understanding between creators and the created; the created and the understood. Architects become translators of collective symbols into material realities, creating architectural poetry that transcends current trends and leaves a lasting imprint on the map of human memory.

Chapter 1.5: Architecture and Philosophy

Architecture, as the language of space, often acts as a physical realization of philosophical concepts, conveying thoughts and ideas through forms and structures. This connection between space and meaning expands the boundaries of perception and redefines architecture as a narrative discipline that can carry moral messages.

One philosophical concept often present in architectural works is the idea of “unity in diversity.” A well-crafted architectural language places this “diversity” under a unified (stylistic) roof. This “style” is not an aesthetic shell that envelops the form but is a visual, rhythmically articulated, systematically derived reflection of philosophical-aesthetic values.

An aesthetic-logical system, which recognizes and understands all aspects of its values, serves as an objective foundation on which the first line is drawn—the Initial Context.

Architecture is an artistic reflection on the relationship between the individual and society, history, and the future. Architecture, in its first definitions, is a mirror of the epoch in which it was built. Parametricism, deconstructivism, neo-structuralism, etc., are just some of these modern mirrors. Throughout history, from antiquity to the Renaissance, from the Renaissance to modern times, architecture writes its self-portrait, which is also the self-portrait of humankind. From simple windows and doors, through columns and arches, to ornaments and sacred meanings, architecture, like Plato’s Republic, becomes a picture of man on a large scale. Enigmatic Image, full of complexities and anomalies, which in its core strives for balanced meaning.

2. Process

Chapter 2.1: Constructing Narratives

Client stories become the inspiration for space, and their aesthetic judgments and references are the initial context of our creation. Aesthetic judgment here should not be taken in narrow definitions. It ranges from immediate aesthetics (preference for sweet or salty food) to metaphysical sympathies.

Eidetic Dictionary

In the creative process of architecture, research, conceptualization, and transformation of ideas into spatial realities are key steps. In this process, the Eidetic Dictionary plays a crucial role as a morphological study of the development of the Euclidean language of architecture. Through this approach, designers use geometric shapes and symbols to represent complex ideas and concepts. Here’s how this process works in minimal grammar, thus a simplified exponent:

1. Identification of Opposites: Start by identifying pairs of geometric shapes that differ, such as squares and circles. These pairs represent opposing concepts or ideas, such as stability versus change.
2. Assigning Meanings: Once the opposing pairs are identified, assign symbolic meanings to each shape based on their inherent attributes and associations. For example, squares can symbolize tradition, while circles can represent innovation.
3. Combining Shapes: Arrange the shapes into meaningful compositions that convey deeper layers of symbolism and narrative. Experiment with different arrangements, such as placing a circle within a square or overlapping shapes, to explore the dynamic relationship between opposing concepts.
4. Creating Narratives: Use these arrangements to construct allegorical narratives or stories within architectural designs. Each composition tells a visual story, conveying complex ideas and themes through the language of geometry and symbolism. For example, a circle breaking out of a square can signify the need for change in the current status quo, or its breakthrough.
5. Refinement and Iteration: Continuously refine and iterate the compositions to ensure clarity, coherence, and effectiveness in conveying the desired ideas and narratives. Seek feedback from colleagues or stakeholders, evaluate the compositions against established design principles, and make adjustments as needed to enhance the visual and conceptual impact of the design. The goal of these translations is objectivity (in assigned semantics) and coherence in relationships.

Chapter 2.2: Architecture as Reflection – Definitions

Postulate 1: Architectural Algorithm in Practice

Architecture is a reflection. Reflection is a mirror of the present filtered through the lens of historical knowledge (the past). The duty of architecture is to create a harmonious relationship between the historical and the contemporary. The schematism and dynamics of this relationship are recognizable both in architecture and in humans. Thus, architecture, as an extension of man, should be a place where man recognizes himself.

The human extension is not, nor should it be, arbitrary. “No one is good by chance; virtue must be learned,” Seneca.

To transfer value, the value must have its language.

Postulate 2: Story-Telling-Design: Notation of Meaning

“Narrative Design” is a space that transcends arbitrariness by creating structural narration. The design thus becomes a transmitter of semantics or meaning. A new narration is articulated through ideas.

Postulate 3: Heuristic Game

It is known that our subconscious detects, analyzes, and processes most of the stimuli and phenomena that surround us (context/discourse). Simultaneously, consciousness resonates with a small part of external bits (selection). Narrative Design erases this invisible line of separation between the conscious and the unconscious by introducing eidetic (visual) logic or the visibility of causal relationships. The system (design) is created by conjugating the smallest particles (morphemes) according to visual, logical laws, and their progress can be tracked to their resolution. By following the multiplication from the original unit to the final design, it is possible to trace the laws and use them as a basis for thinking—visual logical analogy. This pattern is evident in any inductive or deductive scientific analysis. As a pictorial representation of the scientific modus operandi, design, as a principle, is a constant reminder of the interrelationships of values, their dynamics, variations, and final solutions. The design thus becomes more than the sum of its parts and becomes an original ornament. Design becomes a new concept.

Postulate 4: Educational Apparatus

Educational apparatus – The Big Picture – The same pattern that applies to music, a sentence, a book, or a movie, applies to visual stimuli. A child looking at a shape that is planned, not arbitrarily obtained, and that stands in a systematic relationship with the whole (macro-image) offers a structural experience of the phenomenon, i.e., it’s understanding on the level of visual logic from beginning to end, from detail to totality, from multiplicity to one, and vice versa. This is an insight into Totality or Wholeness. An insight into the Big Picture recognized through cause and effect. Systematic subconscious connections of larger images with smaller ones teach children comparative analysis and derivations, i.e., recognizing universal patterns. Participation in this type of visually-imaginary heuristic game encourages structural creative thinking by assigning basic directions.

Postulate 5: Horizon of Expectations

The user as a writer of new stories – Interpretation of a work of art. A story can have multiple narratives, and their number is limited only by the observer’s imagination and eloquence. Design is a phenomenon of “ego in the mirror,” and as a reflection of ourselves, it provides new conclusions and perspectives that unfold before our eyes in the space that surrounds us. Architecture, as a psychological self-portrait, reminds us of the principles embedded in it and, as such, functions as a driving idealistic image – the image of the Hero.

Postulate 6: Critical Regionalism

Architectural design is a “living” system that has its history. This historicity is the given context. The embodiment of the genius loci becomes the primary formative language, existing as the first grammatical law in the creation of architectural morphemes. The final instance (morpheme) should offer a novum (replica), not just be a continuation (affirmation) of the given architectural sentence. This novum is a condition for progress.

3. Practice

In the following pictorial descriptions, you will find the most basic explanations and visual logic behind our practice.

The main Ideas behind Sentences and Morphemes.

Uniting the Logical-Architectural Imago

Eidetic Exponents:

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